Wake Me Up
by reinadefuego
Summary: With the Yule Ball coming up, Snape is assigned to teach his students how to dance. Unfortunately, it dredges up memories of Lily he thought were long since forgotten, and emotions he'd rather not feel. Past Snape/Lily. 4th Year. AU. One-shot.


**A/N:** The Marauders Era timeline has been pushed forward a few years to allow for cultural references.

* * *

"As you all know," the Professor began, casting his gaze over the room full of uneasy fourth year and above Slytherins, "the Yule Ball is happening in three months' time. It is Dumbledore's belief that you should all be well learned in the art of ballroom dancing."

The _so as not to ruin the school's already delicate reputation any further_ went unsaid, but Severus's tone carried the implication.

"So, he has delegated it to be the duty of the Head of each house to teach you to dance. Thus, we are here. Slytherins, divide yourselves equally and form two rows facing each other."

Snape had noticed it straight away: the uneven number of students. It meant _someone_ was going to have to pair off with him. By the time the students had organised themselves, the only one left standing without a partner was . . .

Oh God help him.

Draco Malfoy.

Well, for all intents and purposes, it could've been worse. He could've been the head of Gryffindor, forced to teach clumsy Potter and his imbecile friends. If sympathy was in his skill set, he would've felt it for Minerva. Even she didn't deserve a miserable class such as that.

"Alright, Malfoy, with me," Severus said, cringing internally as he removed his outer robe and draped it over his chair, revealing pants and a shirt. He couldn't very well dance in his full regalia; his attire had to be appropriate, and being forced to wear dress robes when the Ball occurred would be humiliating enough.

Amused laughter spread through the room before he silenced it with a cold stare, challenging each and every one of them to speak up. "Choose between yourselves who the leader shall be, and then we'll commence," he explained, taking position in front of Draco.

On any other day, the look of dread on Malfoy's face would have had him questioning what had put such fear in the boy. Fortunately, this was not any other day. "Malfoy, place your hand on my shoulder."

"P—Pardon, sir?" Draco forced the words out, throat tight and mouth dry. His heart was pounding, threatening to burst out of his chest at any moment.

"Now," he barked. "Unless you wish to earn yourself detention and spend your evenings scrubbing the bathrooms. Leaders, place your left hand on your partner's shoulder," he continued, voice echoing off the damp stone walls of the dungeon.

He swallowed before placing his hand on Snape's shoulder, grimacing when Snape then took his other hand, setting their arms in position. Now he understood why the Triwizard Tournament hadn't taken place in years. The Yule Ball was humiliating. Snape ordered him to hold his arms in position while he went and inspected the rest of the students, correcting spines and arms.

"Let's begin, shall we?" Severus said, taking Malfoy's hand again and resuming his position. "Leaders? You will step forward, while your partner steps backwards. If you can walk, you can dance. If you cannot achieve that, then you should not be attending the Ball."

The students stumbled through it, some tripping and falling, others laughing and realising it was 'easy' as they watched Draco's so-called humiliation. Snape scolded them when they got it wrong and said nothing when they got it right, focusing on the blonde before him, and the feeling in the pit of his stomach that this wouldn't be the end of it.

Things were changing in the Death Eaters. Lucius had been acting rather strange, skittish almost, as if he knew something was coming. Even Dumbledore had felt the change in atmosphere. War was coming, or a terrible event akin to it. That snivelling pathetic creature called Pettigrew hadn't been seen in months, but for an animagus, it was no surprise.

"Professor?" Draco said, stopping them in their tracks.

"Malfoy?" he responded, looming over the boy, head angled downwards and holding his gaze. There was a slight tremor to Draco's hands, as if the boy were scared . . . "We will resume lessons tomorrow at the same time. Lateness will only earn you detention," Snape announced, releasing Malfoy and fetching his outer robes.

The weight of them on his shoulders was comforting, like a skin he'd reluctantly shed but was now sliding back on. Severus walked out of the dungeon with his head up, and memories he'd thought were forgotten threatening to drag him down. Lily . . . The times he'd danced with her under an old oak tree out of sheer boredom floated to the forefront of his mind as he made his way back to his office. Pain seared through his left arm, making him flinch and scratch at the concealed Dark Mark. It had been paining him recently, without reason.

_"Did you have fun?"_

Snape turned, looking for the source of the voice. The Slytherin stood a few feet away, books in hand. "Can I help you?" he queried, voice cold. "Well?"

_"Well? Oh come on, Severus. You know you like Wham!"_

"I—I just wanted to ask you if I could study in the Potions classroom, the other rooms are too noisy."

He raised an eyebrow. "Burke, is it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, but don't make a mess."

_"It was . . . alright."_

_"Oh you are such a liar. You couldn't stop dancing!"_

_"What can I say? I caught the jitterbug."_

"Thank you," the student mumbled, quickly backing off and rushing for the classroom.

Ugh. Why did Dumbledore insist upon his staying? Had he not proved his loyalty already? Voldemort was a ghost, incapable of returning to full form, and if there was a plan, he hadn't heard anything. The Death Eaters were broken, spread out over the globe by circumstance. He unlocked the door to his quarters and stepped inside, drawing his wand and flicking it behind him at the door. A soundproof spell fell over the room and the door slammed shut before he waved his wand at the record player in the corner.

The needle slid into position and the opening beats of 'Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go' started echoing in the chamber. Snape kicked off his shoes and peeled off his outer robes, slumping down in a chair opposite the empty fireplace. His feet tapped out a rhythm, and an old urge to hum broke through his internal walls.

_I miss you, Lil._

_"Please? When are we ever going to get the chance to see George Michael in concert! You said it yourself, it doesn't break the law."_

_"Lily, what if we were seen?"_

_"We'll wear black, and it's at night. No one will see us!"_

_"If we get caught, this is on you."_

_"So we're going?"_

_"Yes."_

_"I love you so much. Thank you!"_

_"See? I told you!" Lily shrieked with laughter, sitting in the shadows. The broom was next to them, and his arm was next to hers. "This is . . . Wham!"_

_He smiled, hair tied back out of his face and eyes fixed on the man dancing down on the stage. By sheer luck, there was a storm in the distance, providing enough cloud cover to get to the stadium and not be seen. Now, it was just him, his . . . friend, and two hours of pop music._

_"Do you want to dance?" Lily beamed, taking his hand._

_"Okay," Severus murmured, stomach twisting into knots. She wanted to dance. With him. He nodded, straightening himself out and standing up. "Okay," he said, a smile on his face. "May I?" he mock-bowed, his long gangly shadow stretching over the roof._

_"You may." Lily grinned, taking his hand before her right foot tapped out the beginning rhythm._

_"Jitterbug," they shouted along with the rest of the crowd._


End file.
